


The Second Return of Kara Thrace

by useyourlove



Series: The Five Returns of Kara Thrace [2]
Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-07
Updated: 2011-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-27 00:58:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/289823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/useyourlove/pseuds/useyourlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lee tries to get Kara to open up and let go on Kobol. Takes place during "Home Part 1" and/or "Home Part 2."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Second Return of Kara Thrace

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [the_applecart](http://the-applecart.livejournal.com) [Challenge 002](http://the-applecart.livejournal.com/1886.html). Originally posted [here](http://the-applecart.livejournal.com/1886.html?thread=101214#t101214). [Also posted on LJ at wartytoads](http://wartytoads.livejournal.com/8910.html).

The second time she comes back from the dead (because they had all given her up for dead--no one returned from a trip like that) he doesn't think he's ever been so happy to see anyone in his entire frakkin' life. He feels like he's tearing apart in fifty different directions and the only way to stop it is to hold her in his arms and kiss her. The kissing... well, that was just the only thing he could possibly do. But she's tired--weary and world-worn... even more so than she was before, and it worries him even through his blinding murderous rage at the Cylon she's brought home with her. He wants to help--wants to take everything on her shoulders and help her carry it for a while--but she does crazy things to him and even when he tries to help he doesn't do much but trip over his own feet. And so they go planetside, still locked in a shaky status quo.

It's been raining for hours--days--weeks. Forever. However long they've been here. He doesn't remember what it's like to be dry. They all slide around, slipping in the mud as they climb up and down miniature mountains with only that supercilious Cylon to lead them and a vague inkling of where they're going. He's never far from her side, unable and unwilling to let her be more than an arms reach away. He always forgets how much he misses her until she's gone. He needs her there to catch him when he goes down in the mud. He needs her there to be caught when her foot slips in the wet foliage, his hands clumsy against her. They stumble onward.

Night falls quickly here. Lee wonders if the ghosts of the gods will chase them from this place. It's a morbid though, and strange for him, and he tries to imagine where it comes from. Whenever he looks at Kara's face, drawn and troubled, he thinks he has a clue.

He lies down to sleep beside her, the poncho he's wearing doing nothing but pooling the water down his neck and making the moisture already in his clothes steam. He feels muggy and disgusting and wonders when he's going to start growing mold. He wraps his arms around himself and turns to his side, taking his mind off of the rain, and the cold, and the utter insanity of what the frak they're doing here by settling his eyes on Kara Thrace. He watches her in the darkness, the rain plastering her hair to her face as she blinks against the drops. She's taken off her poncho, choosing to cover their supplies with it rather than her already soaked body. He doesn't feel like getting into a fight with her over the importance of keeping warm. Their campfire has long gone out. She volunteered to sit first watch, apparently unable to sleep. The darkness of Kobol combined with the rain makes it hard to see her expression clearly, but from her posture she looks lost. She looks as lost as she did on the Astral Queen. He reaches out, wanting to rest his hand on her knee, but thinks better of it halfway and his fingers hit the muddy leaves on the ground with a splash.

She turns her head slightly, looking at him. He's less than a foot away but to him it feels like they're in different star clusters entirely. "You should sleep," she says, folding in around herself and rubbing a hand up her arm. Her fingers play across the C-Bucs patch and Lee is suddenly sad at the pang of hatred he feels for pyramid. He used to be a Bucs fan when he was a kid. Hell, he'd been a Bucs fan five minutes before she showed up wearing that gods damned jacket.

"Can't," he finally answers. "I'm too soggy."

Her lips quirk. He can't tell if it's a smile or not. "Yeah." Her hand rubs at a spot on the side of her belly and he wants to ask--wants _desperately_ to ask what happened, or if she's all right, or if there's anything he can do. But he doesn't dare.

He sits up beside her, not even wanting to pretend anymore that he's trying to doze. He rests his elbows on his knees and lets his hands hang limp between them.

"So..."

"So."

So many questions are banging around in his head that he's amazed they don't come flying out of his mouth just to relieve the pressure. He wants to ask her about why she left him. He wants to know who she met on Caprica--what it was like. He wants to ask about the things she did, the fights she won or lost, the things that happened to her. But he can't. He knows he can't. She wouldn't answer him even if he did.

"You hungry?" is all he can come up with.

"Starved."

He digs around in his pack until he finds two of those horrible-for-you high energy rations and hands her one. The stiff green packaging makes deep crumpling noises as they peel back the plastic. She takes a bite and grimaces. "Gods, these things never get any better do they?"

He rips a bite off of his and chews. "I hear they're better once they ferment," he says around a full mouth.

He can see her teeth gleaming even in the darkness. It makes his heart lighter to see her smile. He leans over and bumps his shoulder into hers. She bumps back and takes another bite before she scoots down off her rock and settles next to him in the soggy leaves, leg flush with his. They eat in peace, warming each other. The patter of the rain is strangely comforting.

"You know, I always wanted to dance in the rain."

"The frak?" she giggles.

"No, I mean it." He picks a sticky piece of the energy bar out of his back tooth. "I mean, they always do it in the movies, right? It always looks so carefree. Renewing somehow. Or rejuvenating I guess. Like everything you're worried about gets washed away by the rain."

"So dance," she says, swallowing. "It's raining plenty."

"Yeah, well, it's no fun alone."

Even in the darkness he feels burned by the intensity of her glare.

"Come on, Starbuck," he says, changing tactics and trying to goad her into it. "It's just one dance."

"I'm on watch."

"Your gun is so wet it won't even fire."

"Doesn't mean I'm not on watch," she says, self-conciously rubbing at the barrel of her gun with her sopping wet sleeve.

He sighs heavily as he finishes off the ration bar and crumples the wrapper into a ball on the extinguished campfire. He snatches her wrapper out of her lap and does the same. Then he slaps his knees spraying drops all over them both (she cringes away from it even in the pouring rain) and stands, holding his hand down to her.

"No."

"Come on, who's gonna know?"

"Me. And you."

He catches her hand and hauls her up. She shrieks softly, surprised but not wanting to wake anyone and trying to pull away. Even soaking wet she can't manage to get out of his grip. He pulls her flush against him, one hand holding hers and the other arm wrapped around her waist. She's so close that he can see her face clearly now, even in the darkness. She's staring him dead in the eye--half warning and half intrigued.

"Lee..." she's unsure.

"No talking." And then he begins to sway.

"This didn't..."

"Sh."

"Didn't exactly end well last ti--" His finger on her lips cuts her off. She bites it.

"Ow!" he shakes the hurt out of it, but--face set--he grabs hold of her hand again and gently starts to sway once more, dancing to whatever music is running through his head. Dancing to the sound of the rain itself.

She's stiff in his arms and he feels for a moment like he's dancing with a flagpole. But she relaxes against him after a long obstinate minute, head falling to his shoulder and her free arm wrapping around his back. The rain beats against them but they're beyond caring. The patter of it on their already soaked clothing is nothing but white noise. Somehow this isn't anything like he had had in mind. People in the movies were always twirling wildly and laughing and dancing with exuberance. They really did look like they were returned to childhood without a care in the world. This is... he doesn't know what this is. This is a lone waltz on Colonial Day. This is someone else taking her home that night. This is so many other things that he can't even fathom. His arm tightens around her waist and he feels her breathe a sigh.

"Why do you even care?" she finally whispers against him.

"Should I not?"

"Is it because you love me?" she jibes.

He pulls back holding her at arms length, hands in her waist. Her arms wrap around his neck and she waits, hiding a smirk. "I'll never live that down, will I?"

She smiles at him warmly, goofy and lighthearted like Starbuck should be. "Nope."

He sighs a melodramatic little sigh that makes her grin and she leans back, trusting him suddenly to keep her from falling as she closes her eyes and hangs there letting the rain wash over her face, her hair, down her front. He sets his feet better so that they won't fall. The dance is apparently over and he can't help but feel a little bereft--like someone turned off the movie before the big finale. But he doesn't have the heart to break the peaceful look stealing over her face.

He studies her there with her head tossed back, letting the rain run over her skin in rivulets. He thinks he can tell when the weight falls off her shoulders, when she finally lets go of the burden of Caprica and steps into the present. It makes him feel restful. As restful as one _can_ feel given their current location, time, and companions. When she stands back straight she takes her hands off his shoulders and wipes at her face.

"Now, I really am on watch," she says. "And you do really need sleep." She pulls away from him and sits back down on her muddy rock with a squish, picking her gun out of the leaf litter and wiping the debris off on her pants. He follows her, sitting down behind her and leaning back. It's welcomingly warm where they touch.

"I didn't think you were coming back, you know. From Caprica. I thought you were gone."

"I always come back."

He smiles at the tone of her voice.

"Keep my head out of the mud?" he finally says, nudging her.

She leans her head back until it clunks against his. "Only because you love me."

Her giggle reverberates through the both of them, and her heartbeat against him is a better lullaby than the rain any day.


End file.
